


burn down my churches

by Astrals (Evoxine)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Confessions, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Rimming, Strength Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 12:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20564594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evoxine/pseuds/Astrals
Summary: Dimitri tells him that it was a joke. Something about that doesn't sit well with him and Byleth eventually gets to the bottom of it.Set right after the Goddess Tower cutscene.





	burn down my churches

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strippedpink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strippedpink/gifts).

> _i didn't tag as underaged because he turned 18 days before the ball and, well, is there even an age limit in the FE world?_

Moonlight glances off the metal plating on Dimitri’s armour when he makes to leave. Perhaps it’s the way his cloak ripples or the way his hair brushes the sharp jut of his cheekbone; Byleth doesn’t quite know, but something has him closing a hand around the Prince’s arm just before he moves out of reach.

“If you had to make a wish, one that could come true right now, what would it be?”

When Dimitri turns back around, Byleth releases his hold.

“What do you mean?”

“Forget about wishes for the future,” Byleth says. “Focus on the now. Right now, what would you wish for?”

There’s a warmth in the cool blueness of Dimitri’s eyes that should not be possible and Byleth finds it extremely hard to look away from them. Like that, gazes locked and faces just a couple of feet apart, Byleth sees the understanding dawn on Dimitri.

“If that’s the situation, then I would not need to make a wish, Professor.”

His confusion must have shown on his face because Dimitri smiles, the curve of his lips bashful, and shifts just a little closer.

“What I would have wished for has already come true,” he explains, and gestures to their immediate surroundings with a hand.

“You…would wish for this tower?”

Dimitri blinks, stunned into silence for a second or two. Then he breaks into laughter, the sound pure and soul-cleansing, and Byleth wonders why there’s a sudden increase of heat in his cheeks.

“Professor, for someone who is so skilled out on the battlefield and so knowledgeable in the classroom, you can be quite oblivious.” His eyes linger on Byleth’s face for a few seconds before he refocuses his attention out through the embrasure at the night sky. Byleth mirrors the action and sees the moon hanging heavy against a backdrop of ink, with only a few stray stars for company.

For a moment, everything is quiet save for the rustling of leaves caused by a light breeze. At least Dimitri doesn’t seem to be too caught up in unpleasant thoughts, if the relaxed set of his jaw is anything to go by.

“I still don’t quite understand,” Byleth says eventually.

“Well, Professor, I’ll have to admit that you weren’t entirely wrong. But it’s not just the tower – it’s you and I inside it, together.”

Oh, that was unexpected. Unexpected, but not unwelcome.

“You would wish to be with me?”

The look Dimitri gives him can only be described as one of fond exasperation. “Professor, I think most – if not all – of the students in this monastery would do anything to be in my shoes right now. I can’t help but think it’s out of sheer luck that you’re here with me instead of one of my fellow students.”

It’s a known fact that Byleth isn’t very good with words nor expressions. Words tend to stay jumbled up in his mind and get stuck in his throat, whereas twisting and contorting his features in order to emote always felt unnatural.

So when he finds himself stepping forward, fingers of one hand resting over Dimitri’s heart, he feels just as surprised as Dimitri looks.

He’s even more surprised when he hears, “I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else,” come right out of his own mouth.

Dimitri, lips parted and eyes wide, stares down at him.

“Professor, do you –”

Byleth leans up and kisses him once on the mouth. He pulls away just enough for their noses to brush and Dimitri makes a soft, pleading sound in the back of his throat that has Byleth wanting to kiss him again.

As soon as their lips touch for the second time, Dimitri is spurred into action. He tugs Byleth closer, one hand pressing against the small of his back and the other cradling the base of his skull. When he nips at the swell of Byleth’s bottom lip, Byleth opens up instinctively and lets Dimitri in, head spinning with the way the Prince licks into his mouth.

The way Dimitri’s presence overwhelms all of his senses and ignites his very core is unlike anything he has ever felt.

Before he knows it, Dimitri has him crowded up against the wall, a hand by his ear and lips pressed to his forehead. The coolness of the stone is a stark contrast to the heat radiating off Dimitri’s frame and the difference is delightful. Byleth takes a breath; the sound of leather shifting has him opening his eyes just in time to see Dimitri yanking the glove off his right hand with his teeth. He does the same for the other hand.

“I want to feel my skin on yours,” he whispers, letting the gloves fall to the floor. He cups Byleth’s cheek, palm warm and skin a little rough with callouses obtained from years of wielding weapons, and Byleth revels in the touch.

Wordlessly, Byleth rids himself of his own gloves, watching as Dimitri’s eyes track the movement like a hunter tracking its prey. Once his gloves join Dimitri’s on the floor, Byleth reaches for the clasp of Dimitri’s cloak.

“Professor,” Dimitri says, voice oh-so-gentle. He strokes the pad of his thumb over Byleth’s cheekbone, then traces the shell of his ear. Byleth shivers, and not from the cold. “Have you ever..?”

“No,” Byleth admits. The cloak slips off Dimitri’s shoulder and puddles on the stone floor around their feet. “Hard to do much when you’re in a band of mercenaries and always on the move with minimal privacy.”

Byleth, too focused on figuring out which piece of Dimitri’s armour/uniform hybrid he should remove first, yelps in shock when he’s manhandled into Dimitri’s arms and squished up against his chest.

_I’ll be good to you_, Dimitri says in the form of kisses planted all over the top of Byleth’s head.

Byleth doesn’t doubt it.

  
If Byleth wasn’t so caught up in the fact that Dimitri is on his knees, situated neatly between his trembling legs, he would be able to hear faint hints of music and laughter trickling out of the hall and through the embrasure. Instead, all he hears is his own heavy breathing as he ignores the rough scrape of stone against his elbows and bites back the pleas threatening to spill out of his throat.

Byleth is half-dressed, his cloak (fastened around his neck with Dimitri’s brooch) and boots the only items of clothing he has on. He should be cold – it’s winter and a breeze has picked up again –, but Dimitri is a furnace behind him.

The way Dimitri’s hands are kneading the swell of his bottom is mortifying in the best way possible.

“Professor,” Dimitri murmurs, mouthing at his flesh. Byleth feels the blunt sharpness of teeth, then suction, and he just _knows_ there’ll be a mark blooming on his skin in no time. His cock, already heavy, fills out a little more. “Are you certain you don’t want to head back? There’s a vial of oil in my dresser.”

Although he’s never done it, Byleth is very clear on the logistics of anal sex. But knowing it doesn’t make experiencing it any less climatic – when the pad of Dimitri’s finger brushes teasingly against his entrance, Byleth lets a gasp out into the night.

“This was your wish. Us together in this tower.”

Dimitri kisses the back of his thigh. “You’re right as usual, Professor. We will remain here, then.”

There’s something so indecent about the innocent title coming out of Dimitri’s mouth at a time like this, so much so that Byleth fears for his own composure in the future. What if he’s having a conversation with Rhea and he hears _Professor?_ in Dimitri’s voice? Will he think of tonight, of the way Dimitri’s hands are caressing every inch of his body?

He’s unceremoniously ripped out of his thoughts when Dimitri holds him open and _licks_.

“_Oh_ – don’t do that, it’s dirty!”

“It’s not,” Dimitri says, matter-of-factly. Another languid drag of his tongue and Byleth moans. “You bathed before the ball, didn’t you? You taste like soap and smell as sweet as a child.”

Byleth has nothing to say to that, not when his brain has suddenly been turned into mush by the way Dimitri returns to – quite literally – feasting on his hole. It’s almost animalistic, how he’s pried open with strong fingers and kept upright only by the bulk of Dimitri between his legs.

Everything blurs together. The sounds, the sensations, the heat starting to seep into his bones. Despite the weather outside, Byleth can already feel the telltale prick of sweat beading on his brow. With shaky fingers, he sheds the cloak and blushes when he feels his nipples react to the sudden cold.

He touches one tentatively and whimpers at the jolt of electricity that shoots right down to his cock. Dimitri hears the sound he makes and wriggles his tongue a little deeper in response.

Ever since the start of his time at Garreg Mach, Byleth has realised that Dimitri tends to focus exclusively on one task. The way he is now is no different, judging by how Byleth can feel a thin line of spit trickling down to his balls.

When Dimitri eases a finger inside him and crooks it, Byleth nearly comes right there and then.

“Is this okay? Does it hurt?”

Too overwhelmed to speak, Byleth simply shakes his head and tries to breathe past the huge knot of pleasure in his chest. Dimitri’s finger slides out, then back in, and a bead of precome rolls down the crown of Byleth’s cock. A hand around his thigh grounds him, something that he appreciates instantly because Dimitri doesn’t slow down – in fact, it isn’t long until Byleth feels a second finger nudging past the tight ring of muscle.

Byleth soon finds out that the stretch is addictive.

“Professor, perhaps you should lie down?” To Byleth’s sudden disappointment, Dimitri retracts his finger and starts moving about, muttering to himself as he goes. “I think both cloaks should be thick enough for some form of padding..? Maybe if I use our undershirts as a pillow...”

Byleth turns around to see Dimitri, the Crown Prince of Faerghus, crouching down and piling their clothes into a pile comfortable enough for him, a mere mercenary-turned-professor.

“There,” Dimitri declares, patting the pile and nodding to himself. “It’s not close to the comfort of a bed, but for now, I think this will do. Professor, why don’t you –”

“You could carry me instead.”

An owl hoots in the background and Byleth is distinctly aware of the fact that he’s standing in nothing but his shoes with his erection out in front of Dimitri’s face. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect to be in this situation.

He notices when Dimitri’s gaze flicks from his face down to his flushed cock.

“You want me to carry you.”

“You are renowned for your strength, aren’t you? I figure it’s safer in your arms than having my bare skin rub against these stone walls.”

Dimitri rises to his feet, a fingertip tracing the length of Byleth’s cock as he stands. A tiny smile graces his lips when it twitches at the touch. With a finger tucked into the waistband of Dimitri’s pants, Byleth tugs him closer and slips the button through its hole.

“If it’s safer,” Dimitri says, helping Byleth rid him of his pants, “then I will do it.”

  
Two seconds after Dimitri lifts Byleth into his arms, he stumbles over the pile of clothes on the floor and nearly tosses his professor into the wall. If it weren’t for Byleth’s quick reflexes, things would have ended before they had the chance to begin.

Dimitri, bless his heart, dives headfirst into a waterfall of apologies. Byleth doesn’t really process any of them, too distracted with how Dimitri is able to hold him up with one arm around his waist. The Prince’s other hand is busy checking over Byleth’s body for any scrapes or cuts, and while Byleth is sure there are a few, he feels no pain.

“I’m so sorry, Professor. I underestimated my strength and the momentum and I –”

Byleth squashes Dimitri’s face between his palms and kisses him right on his puckered lips.

“I’m okay, really. It’s just some scraped skin. I’ll just pop by Mercedes’ room later tonight for a spot of healing magic.” He smooths out the crease between Dimitri’s brow with his thumb and traces the arch of his Cupid’s bow. “But right now, I’m afraid we don’t have all the time in the world. Who knows, another couple who knows of the Goddess Tower’s legend might come up here.”

A subtle squeeze of his thighs around Dimitri’s waist has the Prince kissing the curve of his shoulder and slipping a finger down to where he’s stretched open.

“You still want..?”

Fondness crashes over Byleth like he’d just fallen into a pool of it. Sometimes, in this world where they’ve been thrown into war and battle like pawns, it’s easy to forget that they’re barely on the cusp of adulthood. Dimitri, only a few days into his eighteenth year of life, has dealt with so much and yet so little. Revered on the battlefield and yet so uncertain in many other aspects of life. As for himself? Well, before arriving at Garreg Mach, all he’s ever known was the life of a mercenary – affection like this survived only in tales.

The both of them are on uncharted waters, but at least they’re together.

Byleth rolls his hips, rutting up against the muscled plane of Dimitri’s torso. He’s still hard, erection a solid heat between them.

“Yes,” Byleth says. “I still do.”

When the slick head of Dimitri’s cock fights past the resistance and slips in, Byleth stops breathing for a few heartbeats. He stares at the flecks of gold in Dimitri’s eyes and counts down the seconds until he feels Dimitri bottom out.

“I hope saying this doesn't make you uncomfortable, but you feel,” Dimitri pauses to adjust his grip on Byleth, “indescribably good.”

With one hand under each of Byleth’s thighs, Dimitri effortlessly moves his professor up and down on his cock. His strength combined with gravity means that Byleth feels him everywhere inside, reaching so deep that he can feel him in the back of his throat.

Byleth holds on with his arms around broad shoulders, hands fisted in Dimitri’s hair and gasps coming out hot and quick. The winter air helps with the rising body heat but it keeps his nipples peaked – with every bounce on Dimitri’s cock, they rub against his chest and send streaks of pleasure through his veins.

What would it feel like if Dimitri sucked on them?

The mere thought has him burying his face into Dimitri’s hair, lips parting in a moan when teeth sink into the flesh of his neck.

“Professor,” Dimitri pants. Byleth shudders at the title. “Professor, I’m not going to be able to last much longer.”

Byleth snakes a hand between them and tugs on his cock, slick with precome.

“Neither can I.”

They don’t make it past another minute. Byleth comes first with a mantra of Dimitri’s name, come splattering all over the Prince’s stomach. He’s struggling to catch his breath when he feels Dimitri pulse inside him, followed soon after by warm wetness.

Exhaling, Byleth slumps into Dimitri’s hold and closes his eyes.

  
Cleaned up to the best of their abilities – there’s only so much you can do with the lack of water and clean fabric –, they lie on the ground with their cloaks for padding.

The ball is still going on, but it seems to be dying down.

Dimitri reaches for his hand and Byleth meets him halfway, fingers lacing. Fatigue is settling in, but Byleth has never felt so content.

“Was your wish about wanting to be together forever really a joke?”

“Not at all. Ever since we’ve gotten to know one another, I find myself wishing that very wish almost every day.” Outside, someone shrieks with laughter – Byleth thinks it sounds like Manuela, drunk on ale. “And I’m afraid it will have to remain a wish,” Dimitri continues, “because I cannot promise a forever.”

It’s a stark truth about war – the future, if there is one, will always remain uncertain.

“But I can promise you I’ll try. With you on our side, Professor, I think we’ve got a damned good chance.”

Byleth gazes out at the moon and tries not to think about the long, winding road of bloodshed. He lifts their joined hands and presses his lips to the back of Dimitri’s, a promise of his own. 

**Author's Note:**

> i headcanon that byleth has stupidly sensitive nipples and an exponentially growing dimitri-calling-him-professor kink, while dimitri just has a byleth kink
> 
> come chat with me about these two @_seiros on twitter :)
> 
> [Click for Links!](https://bluedveins.wixsite.com/evoxine)


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